


One is One Too Many, One More is Never Enough

by holysmoaksoliver



Category: Hart of Dixie
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-07
Updated: 2015-02-07
Packaged: 2018-03-10 21:36:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,838
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3304331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holysmoaksoliver/pseuds/holysmoaksoliver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Season 1-- Zoe has decided to stay in Bluebell, but she's still upset over missing the signs of Rose's appendix bursting. When a trip to the bar ends in a very drunk Dr. Zoe Hart, who is there to save the day?</p>
            </blockquote>





	One is One Too Many, One More is Never Enough

**Author's Note:**

> Set during Season 1 sometime between 'Disaster Drills & Departures' and 'The Big Day'.

The music from Rock Band was blaring though Wade's house as he danced around the room, hitting buttons on the guitar he held along with Heat of the Moment by Asia. There was a girl standing on the couch with a set of drumsticks in her hands and a grin plastered on her face. Wade had gone to school with Maisie and they seemed to 'hang out' every now and again. So far that night, Maisie had a few to drink, but despite Wade wanting to enjoy himself, he had yet to have a single beer and instead found himself secretly wishing that Zoe would come home already and blow the power.

It wasn't that he liked the fuse box blowing. It was more a matter of their little spats afterwards- which if he was being honest with himself, Wade might admit that he found rather entertaining.

There was something in the way she growled his name when the little spitfire doctor was mad that always pulled a smirk out of him. She would stomp over in her little shorts and high heels just to give him a piece of her mind. And he would stand there with a devilish grin on his face angering her even more. Or he'd yell right back. It was the game they played; and every time he could see it getting to her a little more. She would pout at him, or her eyes would stay locked on his just a moment longer than normal. And his grin would grow wide and she'd stomp off, fuming.

Nah, he didn't like getting the doc all wound up at all.

The song ended and Maisie hopped off the couch and made her way to the fridge for another beer. Wade's pocket vibrated and he set the guitar down on the couch before going for his phone. He glanced down to see a text message from James, a buddy and fellow bartender from a place up in Mobile called Stella's Station.

You know a girl named Zoe? The text said.

Wade sighed and shook his head. He wasn't sure he could handle another of his friends having a thing for Zoe Hart. It was bad enough his brother, the local vet and Golden Boy George all seemed to be interested. The latter especially since he was still engaged to Lemon and the wedding was only a few weeks away.

Depends. Wade texted back. Everything about Zoe Hart seemed to scream trouble. And he'd been caught up in her drama one time too many for his liking in the short time since she'd moved to town.

"What song should we do next?" Maisie asked. Wade turned and watched her take a long swig from the beer bottle.

"You pick," Wade said absently. His phone vibrated in his hand again; this time with a phone call from James.

"Yeah?" Wade said, answering the phone.

"There's some little spitfire here. Or at least, she was a spitfire about an hour ago. Now she's just drunk and complaining about Bluebell and how she failed someone named Rose. Said she took the bus up here earlier when she went to the hospital, but they quit runnin' at 11. I asked if she knew anyone that could get her and she only gave me one name. Yours."

Wade sighed and pressed the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger. "Keep an eye on her til I get there?" Wade asked.

"You got it," James answered.

Wade ended the call and pushed the phone back into his pocket. He turned to Maisie. "Looks like we got a change'a plans." He reached for a jacket and pulled it on before stepping into his shoes.

"What's wrong?" she asked, eyes following him around the room.

"I gotta pick someone up from Mobile," he answered casually. "Come on, I'll drop you off home on the way."

"But I thought we were gunna hang out tonight," she said with a pout, stopping him in the hallway and tracing a finger across his chest.

"Sorry," he said. "Duty calls."

Maisie scowled. "When did you become so… reliable?" Wade handed her shoes and jacket to her, forcing her out onto the porch.

"What's that mean?" He asked defensively.

Maisie shrugged. "The Wade I always knew didn't care about anything and would blow responsibility off for a good time any day of the week."

He took the steps off the porch while she slipped on her shoes. Wade opened the driver side door and paused before getting in. He had a feeling he'd regret the next words that he spoke. But at the very least, he figured he could deny them if necessary. "Guess I'm not that guy anymore."

Maisie frowned and muttered something under her breath that he didn't catch. She stalked around to the other side of the car and got in, slamming the door behind her.

\----

Stella's Station was one of the few places in Mobile that Wade liked to go. In fact, pretty much any of the dates he had ever been on generally started or ended at Stella's.

He headed to the bar, where James popped open a beer and set it in front of him.

Wade smiled gratefully and took a long pull from the bottle. "Thought you were gunna keep an eye on her," he said to James.

"I am," James answered, gesturing to the dance floor where Zoe was quickly picking up a line dance. She was facing the side wall and from where Wade sat she couldn't see him. He watched her for a moment.

"She your new girl or somethin'?" James asked.

"What?" Wade asked, glancing over his shoulder back at the bartender. He shook his head. "Just my annoyin' neighbor."

James leaned across the bar. "She sure is easy on the eyes. Annoyin' neighbor or not."

Wade rolled his eyes dismissively and changed the subject. "How'd she end up on the dance floor? Thought you said she was wallowin' at the bar."

James shrugged. "Some AC/DC song came on and she just had to dance. Hasn't left the dance floor since."

Wade grinned, watching her line dance. It was probably the first thing that she'd ever done in the South that she actually seemed to be a natural at. Somehow, that surprised Wade. He briefly considered taking some photos as evidence (or blackmail), but ultimately decided against it.

"She got a tab?" Wade asked.

James nodded, hit a few buttons on the computer screen attached to the cash register and printed out a receipt.

Wade raised a brow. "She drank all this?"

James laughed. "You should see that girl throw 'em back." He paused. "'Tween you and me, I'm not even sure how she's still standing."

Wade chuckled. "Dr. Hart defies them…laws of physics or whatever," he answered, pulling out his wallet and laying enough money on the counter to cover the tab along with a generous tip. "We're all set," he said. James began a protest about the tip, but Wade insisted. "For lookin' after her," Wade explained.

"Suuure she ain't your girl," James answered teasingly with a wink.

Wade took one more long pull from his beer bottle and set it down on the counter. He turned back to where Zoe was moving to the rhythm on the dance floor, his eyes following her every move. He stood and crossed the floor until he was standing directly behind her.

"Hey Doc," he cooed into her ear. She turned and he met her gaze with a lopsided grin.

"Wade?" she exclaimed. He couldn't tell if she was happy or angry about seeing him. "What are you doing here?" she asked.

"Heard you were askin' for me," he smirked, gesturing to the bartender.

Zoe thought for a moment and then a look of recognition crossed her face. "I think I remember that," she said and then a broad smile brightened her features. Apparently tonight was happy drunk Zoe, compared to the flirting, make out partner he remembered from her first night in Bluebell. Not that he'd been expecting that again or anything.

"Wanna dance?" She asked as Carrie Underwood's Good Girl melded into something slower. Kenny Chesney's You and Tequila Wade guessed from the first few chords.

"Nah," Wade answered. "I think it's about time I get you home."

"But it's a good song!" Zoe protested, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Wade cleared his throat, surprised by her sudden closeness. He knew her actions were alcohol induced. He knew that sober, she would never stand this close to him. He knew that he shouldn't be enjoying this as much as he was, even if it was because she was drunk. He knew that he couldn't let it continue; couldn't let himself give in to her now, even if it was what he wanted.

"Sorry Doc," he answered. "I ain't much of one for dancin'." One more night could kill me baby, the lyrics filtered through the room, gnawing at his heart. One is one too many… one more is never enough.

He pulled her hands from his neck, and kept a firm hold on one, ignoring the electricity he felt coursing through him at the touch, and made his way for the door.

"I have to pay!" she exclaimed.

"I checked with the bartender," Wade answered. "It's all taken care of."

Zoe nodded, seeming confused. Still, she let Wade lead her from the bar and out toward his car. He hadn't realized it on the dance floor, but now that he was trying to get her to walk, he noticed how off balance she was. He put an arm around her waist for added support, and once they reached the car, leaned her up against the side while he opened the door.

"I can do it," Zoe insisted, beginning to slur her words. She attempted to get into his car and hit her head on the side. "Ow!" she exclaimed, rubbing the spot where her head had collided with metal.

Wade smirked involuntarily. "Let me help you," he answered.

"Don't need your stupid help," she answered. "With your stupid car and your stupid grin." Her words were muttered now, and despite insisting on doing it herself, she allowed Wade to help her into the car.

He reached across her and buckled her in, his head just inches from hers, her breath warm on his neck. He paused a moment, meeting her eyes, and then cleared his throat and stood up, closing her door. He rounded the hood and got in the car.

"So, wanna tell me what that was all about?" he asked, starting the car.

"Don't know what you're talking about," Zoe said, nose in the air, head resting back on the seat.

Wade remembered James having mentioned something earlier. He had a feeling it may be why she'd gone off to Mobile and gotten drunk. He was familiar enough with avoidance to know what it looked like.

"You still worried about Rose?" he questioned. He glanced over to see Zoe giving him a dark look.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Ok."

"It's just… I can't believe her mom thinks it's my fault. How could I have known? I mean, the symptoms were there, sure… but what girl hasn't felt sick to her stomach at being asked out by a guy she likes?" She paused.

"I wouldn't know…" Wade answered.

"And yeah, okay, maybe I should have known. Maybe I should have taken her to the office and sat down with her and gone over her symptoms to make sure nothing was wrong." She was quiet again for a moment and it wasn't until he glanced over that he noticed she was crying. Bottom lip trembling, tears rolling silently down her face. "She could have died Wade." She drew in a jagged breath. "And it would have been my fault."

"But she didn't," he answered gently. He rested a hand on hers and was surprised when she leaned over on his shoulder and pulled his arm around her. Her tears soaked through the sleeve on his shirt and he felt her sobs hiccup in her throat every now and again. They stayed like that for the rest of the drive.

Sometime between the outskirts of Bluebell and the carriage house, Zoe had either fallen asleep or passed out on Wade's shoulder. He pulled up in front of the house, put it in park and gently leaned her back against her seat. He cut the engine and looked at her for a long moment. She was different when she slept, peaceful and unassuming.

He exited the car and took the steps up to the carriage house two at a time, propping the screen door open. He moved back to the car, opened the passenger door and unbuckled Zoe's seatbelt. Wade prodded her gently, trying to wake her. After a moment with no success, he reached in and lifted her into his arms like he'd done when she'd been bitten by the snake after first moving to town.

He carried her into the house and laid her down on the edge of the bed. It wasn't until he attempted to unbuckle her platform heels and get them off her feet that she roused.

"What're you doing?" she asked groggily.

"What's it look like?" he asked, fumbling with the buckle. "Damn shoe!" he said, cursing under his breath.

Zoe giggled. She used the toe of one shoe to kick off the other and then did the same with her now bare foot. She yawned. "I'm warm," she said quietly.

Wade rolled his eyes. "Alright, come on," he said, hoisting her to a sitting position. "Arms up."

"Yeah right." She answered sharply.

"You've got somethin' on under it. It's not like I'm tryin' to strip you." He replied. She made no effort to move. "Fine, sleep warm then."

"No wait!" she said, wrapping her hands around his forearms. Wade paused. Zoe lifted her arms and waited for him to pull her sweater off, which he did, revealing a silk tank top under it.

Wade averted his eyes quickly, forcing himself not to stare. "Well if that's all."

"It's not," Zoe replied matter-of-factly. "I need you to stay."

Wade raised a brow.

"What if I choke on my own vomit?"

"You aren't that drunk," he answered. "And sleep on your stomach."

Zoe frowned, and then shot him her best pouty face. "How about some water?"

"That I can do," he answered, disappearing into the bathroom. He stared at himself in the mirror for a long moment, silently debating her previous request. It's not like it would be the first night he'd slept over. Besides, the couch wasn't that uncomfortable. But then again, what if she didn't remember any of the previous night (like he expected she wouldn't) and she woke up to him sleeping in her house?

He ran the tap until it got cold and filled the glass by the sink. He popped a few Tylenol into his hand and carried them back to the bed with him.

"Here," he said, holding out both hands to her. "Trust me," he said when she eyed him warily about the Tylenol.

Zoe took the glass and the pills. She gulped the water until she'd emptied it and then handed it back to him. Wade sat on the edge of the bed and placed the glass on the bedside table.

"How about just until I fall asleep?" Zoe asked, cautiously. Her eyes pleaded with him, making it impossible for him to refuse. She laid her head back down on the pillow, staring straight up at the ceiling.

Wade sighed in response and laid back beside her. He knew she would never remember it in the morning, but it would be seared in his brain indefinitely. He was going to regret this, he knew. She was like a drug. He couldn't control how she affected him, but even after she was gone, the effects lingered. He clicked the light off on the table beside him and stared up at the ceiling. They were both quiet for a while and he glanced over, seeing her skin glow in the moonlight. He watched the gentle rise and fall of her chest in the darkness, thinking she was asleep. He was surprised when she spoke.

"You're a good guy Wade," she said drowsily. Her voice was still thick with alcohol and was muffled by the pillow that all but covered her face.

"Why do you say that?" he asked, tucking his arm behind his head and glancing in her direction. There was something about lying in bed beside Zoe that made every nerve inside him feel like it was laced with pure energy.

She rolled onto her side and faced him. "Because when no one is looking," she said with a yawn. "You do the right thing." She pulled her head up onto his chest and nuzzled into his side.


End file.
